A True Prophesy
by Ladylamentana
Summary: Lavender Brown is good at divination and just about nothing else. Game of Thrones has a new prophet. One-shot.


**Disclaimer - I don't own A Song Of Ice And Fire or Harry Potter. Enjoy.**

Trudging along a spongey dirt path, Lavender Brown picked berries and nuts from the bushes she passed, eating them as she went. She would never have done such a thing a month ago, the dark juices would stain her hands and that's _not_ very attractive. These days though, food is scarce, and you can't pass up the chance to eat if you can help it.

Holding her robes tighter around her, fighting off the thawing winter, she continued her trudge into the small hut she was beginning to call home. Home used to be a large country home or a humongous magical castle with a thousand rooms, servants and feasts. Home for Lavender was now just four walls, a roof and a mud floor. She didn't earn this place, she found it empty but for a dirty wooden bowl and a shoddy blunt knife.

That, apart from her tattered school robes, was the scope of her worldly possessions. She didn't even have her bleeding wand.

She was cold, hungry, and bored, living for the next meal, the scope of her travel being a 2-mile radius so she couldn't search high and low for other witches and wizards. She knew sod all about this brave new world and merlin did she miss the days of travelling miles in a heartbeat.

It was these reasons which had Lavender deciding that the middle ages sucked for muggles. She was trapped in the past and had no skills besides magic. No sewing or farming or anything any historic muggle actually cared about. She couldn't even take the easy route and become a prostitute; Fenrir Greyback took care of that when he tore her face to shreds in the battle of Hogwarts.

Lavender brown was just an ugly, poor, hungry peasant, but thank goodness the werewolf hadn't turned her.

It was lovely, sweet, well-meaning professor Trelawney that had thrown her into this hell hole when she dropped that crystal ball, trying to stop Greyback, only for the enchanted crystal to shatter around her in a dome of rainbow light, sending her here. Probably her fault for wishing so hard to be away from that battle.

In the distance she could see a castle, looming, taunting her, reminding her of the relative paradise she'd lost. She could never get it back.

Sometimes she travelled the forest hoping to find some mystical herb or root, but the local area was devoid of it. More that anything it was the lack of magic around her made her feel truly alone.

Sometimes muggles would come by her humble abode, thinking, correctly, that she was a witch. What drew them to that conclusion she didn't know, this was the least witch she had felt in her life, but she supposed that people have a sense about these things. She thought they would be hostile, that's what history had taught her, but no, they just seemed curious. They would give her things to see her magic and all she had was divination, so she played the part.

Professor Trelawney always said she had a gift, she had an inner eye, but through all the studies she never had a true prophesy. That is until a crystal ball sent her to the past. Reading hands she could see further into people than ever before, it seemed though that muggles didn't believe that particular style of seeing, they thought she was cheating them so one day she took out her gnarled knife and slashed across the palm in front of her. It was a rash move, but she had been having a bad month.

Afraid to lose her precious pay she wiped up the flowing blood into 1 finger and drank it down, tricking them into believeing it was all part of the scry. Then she saw it all. Flashes of the future, people she'd never met, titles to go with them. She saw it all and Death was all around. Around every corder, every day and every night Death was there. Most her prophesies held that omen and more and more she felt she understood her old professor's ramblings.

So, whenever a curious traveller came along, she did the same. she was still poor, bored, and hungry but every now and again she would have a little something to entertain herself with, her prophesies becoming more theatrical every time. Today was one such day.

Same as always, her hair was tangled and darkened by grime and dirt, her teeth were going one by one with no healers around to keep them clean and healthy. Her legs were getting bowed, scurvy bending them with time, making her look squat. She was a far cry from the bombshell she was at Hogwarts.

In the distance she could hear the distinct bounding of horses nearing. Putting on her game face she left her shack and came face to face with three little girls. Clean, well-fed little girls, they would pay well, but the future isn't meant to be seen by those so young.

"Forget what you've heard about me and leave," one girl took off on her horse, scared enough by her presence. Merlin she was turning into a hag.

"Coward," said another derisively, "I'm not leaving I came this far; I want to know what's going to happen to me." Lavender used to be able to pull off a tone like that.

"Please, I'm tired."

"NO! If you don't do as I say, I'll have my father's men down here and tear this sorry place apart." That was a deal breaker for lavender. This sorry place was all she had. "My father says prince Rhaegar is to be my betrothed, I want to know more."

With no choice, lavender begrudgingly took out her little knife and pricked the girls' thumbs drinking it in so knowledge flowed through her once again. She didn't realise but her eyes had changed to a sickly yellow.

"When will I wed the prince?"

"Never. You will wed the king"

"I will be queen, though?"

"Aye, Queen you shall be… until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear,"

"Will the king and I have children?"

"Oh, aye. Six and ten for him, and three for you. Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds, she said. And when your tears have drowned you, the Valonquar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you." The brat staggered back, confused and afraid.

The second girl chimed in,apparantly unfazed, "Will I marry Jaime?", said with such hope.

"Not Jaime, nor any other man, worms will have your maidenhead, your death is here tonight, little one. Can you smell her breath? She is very close"

Sure, she was harsh with the first brat, but she had seen her kill the second by pushing her down a well, a lifetime of worry from a lousy prophesy seemed like just pay. Just imagining the life, knowing her little brother would kill her, knowing her husband would cheat on her, it made Lavender cackle with glee.

The little ones rode off fast, their fear apparent, and the young hag just cackled and cackled until they were in the distance.


End file.
